From Here
by Ellsee89
Summary: A collection of Outlaw Queen-inspired one-shots and drabbles; occasionally AU, in no particular order. Rating subject to change.


**Summary**: Regina and her baby daughter have a heart-to-heart. *Originally posted on Tumblr.

**Author's Note**: I don't really write fic anymore, and I've never written anything for OUAT, but I wanted to do something in response to the controversial "spoilers" we've received over the last few days. Just to be clear, I really don't think this is actually going to the happen in the show, and in fact, I really hope it doesn't. I don't want Regina and Robin to have a baby until their relationship is properly defined, and I certainly don't want her to have to go through anything like this alone. However, if they do decide to go down that road, we had BETTER GET A SCENE LIKE THIS. I have needs. Many needs.

Also, I think we've already established that Outlaw Queen will have a daughter, so…yeah. A daughter. :)

**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing.

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><p><strong>The Promise<strong>

As the machines whirred in the background, and all the well-wishers cleared out (Dr. Whale had urged them to leave his patients to rest ages ago, but if the Dark Curse wasn't enough to quell the ministrations of Snow White and Prince Charming, she suspected a passive aggressive "physician" didn't stand a chance), Regina rearranged the weight in her arms.

Her tiny daughter was hours old, with a full head of black hair and the cloudy blue eyes of a newborn. Her visitors, Henry, Emma, and the Charmings, had gushed that her baby was beautiful, and for once, Regina knew their praise was completely genuine. The baby was pink-skinned and wrinkled, crying in protest of her birth, fluorescent lighting, and probing nurses, but despite everything, her daughter was the most precious thing Regina had ever beheld.

Already a mother, holding a child of her own was not a new sensation for Regina. But after nine months of uncertainty, heartache, wonder, and at last, her daughter's lusty cry, Regina was finding it difficult to reconcile this new, impossibly small (though she had felt a lot bigger a few hours earlier) person with the life she had felt move and stretch beneath her fingers only yesterday.

Alone at last, she gathered her thoughts, vowing to start this relationship off correctly. Cuddling her daughter as close as she could without disturbing her, Regina broke the silence:

"Hello, little one," she spoke slowly, tentatively. The baby scrunched her face in response, and for one, horrified second, Regina anticipated a wail to rival those with which Henry had constantly plagued her during their first few weeks together. Instead, the little girl yawned, and focused her sleep-addled gaze on her mother. Regina knew that like most newborns, her daughter's blue eyes would probably change in the coming months, but a small, hopeful part of her imagined they'd remain this very shade, so like Robin's, for the rest of her life.

"I know you're tired," she crooned, "we've had a very long day, you and I." Gently, Regina adjusted the baby's blanket and ran a soft, loving hand across her daughter's dark hair, marveling over the thickness of it, and the downy wisps that curled at the end. "And I promise, if you'll hear me out, I'll let you sleep in just a few moments." She chuckled, stifling her own yawn. "I could use a nap myself, but before we get some rest, there's something I need you to know." With a deep, sobering breath, and a quick peek to make sure her daughter hadn't drifted off prematurely, Regina began:

"When I brought Henry home, I wasn't honest with him. I thought-" she stopped herself. Old habits die hard. "I thought _wrongly_ that if I loved him, and if I created the life for him that Cora had denied me, that would be enough. I held on so tight-too tight-and before Emma showed up, I never actually told Henry how much he meant to me. I let my thirst for vengeance cloud my ability to love him as a mother, and for that...I almost lost him."

A single tear slid down her face, and without thinking, Regina reached up to wipe it away, jostling the baby and earning a whimper for her hasty reaction. "Oh, no, no, no, please don't cry," she rocked the baby carefully. "Please? Mother's sorry, little one." After several moments, her daughter quieted, and Regina was able to continue.

"I managed to fix my relationship with your brother, and I have it on good authority that you and Henry are going to be the best of friends." She smiled, remembering the look on her son's face when she first confessed her secret. Before telling Henry that he was going to be a big brother, the knowledge of her pregnancy had left her with nothing but dread; the tangible, cosmic retribution for a night of passion between two soulmates she herself had damned decades before. But Henry's reaction, his unabashed glee over the prospect of a baby sister or brother, had taught her the power of hope better than any of the hundred or so sermons delivered by a well-meaning Snow White over the years. Henry was confident that this new addition to their family was the most excellent of news, and from that moment on, her baby became more than just a painful reminder of the love she had lost. Her focus had shifted then, had necessitated a promise Regina swore she would uphold.

"Your father isn't here right now, my darling, and that's beyond my control. But I want you to know that he was-is-a very good man." Another tear fell, and Regina allowed it. "So good, in fact, that he had to leave." She bit her lip, hard; the small sting of pain a preamble to the guilt she felt over her next confession. "He doesn't know about you, little one, but I promise, if he did, he would be here. He would love you so, so much. When you're a little older, I'll explain everything."

She looked down at her baby rocking slowly, lovingly in her arms, the threat of a much-needed rest after fourteen hours of labor weighing heavily on both of them. Her daughter's eyelids fluttered, and Regina fell in love.

"I don't know what kind of mother I am, and I know I'm going to screw this up a few more times down the road, but I'm going to make you the same promise I should have made Henry the moment I saw him: I love you, and I always, always will."


End file.
